“Now who do people say I am?”
 What if he asked that in this space?
 I might reply with darkened face:
 “There’s many here don’t give a damn.
 Your name’s mis-used by those who swear.
 Some might remember half a rhyme
 of carols sung at Christmas time,
 or cross stripped bare in neon glare.”

 But if he asked me what I say,
 I might reply: “You are the heart
 and breath of loving and of art,
 the source of justice and of play,
 the guide to what I’m meant to be,
 the mid-wife of my death and birth,
 the one whose coming transforms earth,
 the cosmic wisdom plain to see.

 So “Who are you?” and “Who am I?”
 are secrets hidden in the light. 
 The search for meaning gives us sight,
 the gift of a discerning eye,
 and those who wonder, and are drawn
 to life abundant and to love,
 can hear the call of spirit dove
 and in the dark embrace the dawn.
 Barbara Messner 20 August 2020